Roaming Under a Cracked Sky

I am a bit stuck in what to write here.

How can I say that I roamed a flat plane, saw the sky, blue and red, become purple only to settle into a red-grey-purple storm of lightening as a woman of power strode about? How can I tell you that I was there to heal her and I saw the Goddess within my human friend? If I told you I begged her to sing a siren song of seduction drawing those who hear to the deeper love of her healing ways, would that make sense?

What can one say about seeing someone be a body, the world tree and star all at once? Can I share the purity of the place? The raw power? The understanding of the creative force there to be left to its own devices or to the will of the magician?

Can I tell you how normally bizarre it was to see my spirit guide, whom I have yet to met, walking with her?  How do I communicate what it was like to go back to that place, alone, and call down the creative lightening bolt of G-d's love and have it pass into me without so much as rattling my astral bones? Can I communicate how cool it was to be in utter pain today yet feel my heart pulsing with the left over love of that experience?

If I said these things, would you believe me? If you did, would it matter to your own work?

If I said how deeply I love you, dear reader that I have never met and never will, would it matter? If I shared how the useless anger within me is falling prey to love of nothing and everything would you care?

What can I write that does not diminish and yet still shares?