What does Heaven look like?

I wrote this off the heels of an existential crisis; a crisis of my Faith; and now I just see Religion everywhere and I feel like there’s a line I can cross to live in a ‘correctly holy’ way.

So why is everything white?
One can’t escape it!-
The lines and borders of that raiment
Flow over all and encapsulate everything.

Even milk on the stove, heating
Slowly, slowly-
The bubbles group together and for
A moment it seemed that an eye peered out:

A filial eye, a paternal eye
A motherly eye all warm and glowy
With long lashes like
Naked willow boughs; brown as a compass.

Then they dispersed- and again
Appeared in the clouds, then in the
Steel-hot sun and even the moon
Was victim to this apparition-

It was the eye of a rabbit there,
And that of a flaky empress-lady;
Well, they were looking over white
Lotus lunar cakes- and traitorous red beans.

Nuances of white?
You ask, what does Heaven look like?
The white always does push the grey
Of thunder-frazzle away-

I guess that must be it, said I.
You’re still knocking on that door
I see your mind at it every day.
I wonder if it’ll open up for you-

(You know you aren’t very holy)
You almost took that silver to your wrists
And it was always said
That there shall no man see It, and live.