A Thought

I walked slowly out on the beach. A few yards below high-water mark I stopped and read the words again:
WRITE YOUR WORRIES ON THE SAND.
   I let the paper blow away, reached down and picked up a fragment of shell.  Kneeling there under the vault of the sky, I wrote several words, one above the other.
   Then I walked away, and I did not look back.  I had written my troubles on the sand.
   The tide was coming in.

Arthur Gordon