Floating in a Bath of Warm Color

I was floating in a bath of warm color,
washed over by slowly shifting shades
of every tint and tone
I had ever seen.

I swam in sea-like spaces of
shimmering surfaces, of
vast and vagrant shapes and structures, that
defied all attempts at naming, that
refused any reduction of their appearances
into the easy answers
of my everydayness.

A witness
to the creation of worlds,
to wonder itself,
to the emergence of
matter and meaning and mentality,
from some ineffable cauldron of
patterns and permutations and possibilities.

I was
sinking,
slipping,
sliding,
spinning
in every direction and dimension,
or,
was I still?

And was it the spaces surrounding me, that were
swirling and
sweeping and
sloping into
something even more
sublime?

Like an awestruck whisper inside a vast anechoic chamber,
announcing its supplication to the silence,
I am elsewhere and otherwise.