“Wherefore, whoso believeth in God might with surety hope for a better world, yea, even a place at the right hand of God, which hope cometh of faith, maketh an anchor to the souls of men.” Ether 12:4
An anchor does not stop the wind,
Does not cease the slap of the sail
Or the wild rocking of the boat.
When solid steel meets sea and sinks
Plummeting down to the sand,
The storm does not desist, but rages.
Angry fists beat wood and canvas,
Fingers pry into weakest points
The boat is now a battleground.
But beneath the surface,
Below waves and wind,
Flukes bite the sand, and
An anchor holds. Phoebe Romney Cook is a curious seeker of truth and a busy mother of five. She runs, she reads, she cooks, she creates, she mothers, and when she can find a couple of quiet moments, she writes.