What does it mean that I saw myself in the wind?

A horned beast in the Grass, and Christ in a Cow?

How can it be that Thought sounds like Love,

that Heart equals Mind, Snow has an eye,

and Water plus one is Eternity?

These things are somehow true;

the voice of Meaning drowns them.

Our words grow dry and empty

as eyes look through, not at them.

They point us to the world inside,

but Outside points to us.

The Wind has never ceased to listen.

Self Portrait in Wind