The deeper you go into a writing idea, the higher the risk that it never materializes.
I've always been fascinated by "Time". Is it another adaptive invention of mankind, or is it some universal constant, bedrock solid? What of the Coriander Island natives that Margret Mead studied who had no concept of chronological time?
Then my bible studies found me circling around the idea of "Everlasting Life", and I started writing a poetic analogy wherein a raindrop falls and is carried back to the ocean by the river -- a blend of reincarnation and timelessness wherein "Everlasting" means "every second of all your days". And my subconscious mind started working on a short story about some characters living in a timeless world.
As I muddled along in all of this, coincidentally I stumbled onto a poem by Emily Dickinson:
“Some keep the Sabbath going to Church -
I keep it, staying at Home -
With a Bobolink for a Chorister -
And an Orchard, for a Dome -
Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice -
I just wear my Wings -
And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church,
Our little Sexton – sings.
God preaches, a noted Clergyman -
And the sermon is never long,
So instead of getting to Heaven, at last -
I’m going, all along.”
...SCREECH the brakes.....she said it ALL. Nothing left for me to say......bye bye