in subtle currents

If you thought about what I was telling you, you would know that I was wrong. How can the wind be powerful, you would argue, when the wind can not know its own strength?

But you would never think this. Any more than you would think to go out at midnight to watch the roses dance by themselves under windless moons.

If you bothered to think about it at all, you would only marvel at the subtlety of it all. At the massive weight of what is known, yet remains unsaid. It's influence, you would say, It's how the wind blows.

Precisely, I would say.