The thought moved along in the queue of words and ideas.
Far back in the line of things left to be considered and reconsidered.
Back in the mind of the man who held them.
A man living with the frustration of inadequate answers.
Wondering why, in spite of all of his searching, that nothing seemed to provide a solution to his problem.
He couldn’t see that the answer was on its way.
But had been detained in the line of reasoning.
He couldn’t see that the thought desperately wanting to rescue him, but knew and respected the necessity of the line.
Knowing that it would not make perfect sense to the man until all of the other considerations had made their cases first.
Because the space that he was currently living in, would not nourish the thought properly.
And even the tears that the man cried, did not yet carry the right amount of weight to bear down this seedling thought enough for it to take root within him.
So time held up the line until the answer fell into exact step with the best possible moment of clarity.
All things working for the benefit of the man who would only get the best use of the answer if he waited.