Simply danLrene

Work Your Dream


In today’s time, there is so much hate flowing around that it can be felt. I believe hate is a poison. It is like drinking poison expecting the other person to die.  With hate comes all sorts of problems. People lose the ability to be rational. They lose compassion and sometimes even love. Many become violent. And even worse, they become indifferent.

I wrote this poem in 1989 at the time, I felt like the world was becoming hateful and indifferent. Today it is a 100 times worse and sadly affecting our whole country. I try to avoid those filled with anger and even have my settings on my social media to not allow the hate filled posts. I think when we are around it too much, it rubs off on us and we can find ourselves becoming more like them instead of being the person our heart leads us to be.

One of the things that helps me so much in this world filled with hate is forgiveness. I hear people say “I will never forgive so and so for what they said or did!”  I do not forgive because what the person has said or done was ok. I forgive so that my heart is at peace and I can go on with my life and feel love, compassion and hope filled. Forgiving is very cathartic. When you find certain people in your life have become hate filled, try forgiveness and see if it helps. I forgive and give the person to God because I am a person of faith. I figure God can deal with them better than me.

I never want to be indifferent to the pain of others or to make fun of those who are struggling. I believe the only time we look down on someone is when we are reaching a hand out to help them back up.


The old man reached into the depths of his soul

Only to discover that it was black as coal

Hate and anger had taken up residence there

Turning a heart black that was once so fair

The old man cried out in hurt and pain

As he looked around for someone to blame

When no one appeared, he threw his shoulders back

Deciding it no longer mattered that his soul was black

Published 1989 © danLrene

Also published in
Sparrowgrass “Treasured Poems of America”


June 18, 2018 Posted by | Inspiration | , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A Place Within

This poem I write after visiting the nursing home and seeing so many that just seemed to live within themselves, all alone, no one to care. I would take my boys to the local nursing home to visit, asking for the ones that had no visitors. My boys would go all over the room hugging them and talking to them and seeing the people’s faces light up with joy. Many thought their grandchildren had come to visit. I think this is why my boys who are grown men now are so compassionate and loving.

I took my kindergarten class to sing for them one year. It was lovely but what touched my heart was this one woman as I walked by her grabbed my arm and started calling me by another name from long ago. She thought I was her daughter and asked me why I did not wear the dress she sent me. I told her it was because it was at the cleaners. She seemed content with that. She held my hand and stroked my arm and talked to me the whole time and was so thrilled that I was there. I learned later that her daughter brought her, dropped her off and never returned to visit her again. I wanted to cry. She would tell everyone that walked by that I was her daughter and I would just smile. I hugged her and gave her a kiss on the cheek when we left and told her I loved her. She died shortly after that and it always touched my heart and this is when I wrote this poem.

A Place Within

With soles worn and body weak

traipsing along well-worn trails

Gnarled knees and a twisted back

And  a mind full of human tales

A path framed with rolling grass

Empty of human voice

Desolate to the ordinary man

But tis his only choice

Eyes that see only inner sights

Ears that hear the past

Lips devoid of any sound

And a body that can not last

The creaking rocker slows to a halt

Closed eyelids flicker in pain

A hand fluttering to his chest

As he returns to the rolling plain

© danLrene 1996

One of the things that taught me to always treat others how I wanted to be treated. That has never left me.


June 17, 2018 Posted by | Inspiration | , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

The Gilded Cage

The Gilded Cage is not just a poem, it is a story of life and struggles and how we can be our own enemy for happiness. I tell people that happiness is a choice. You can be happy with nothing but a small roof over your head or you can be miserable in a mansion. We have to choose and happiness is not an emotion, it is a state of being. Always choose happiness and see the joy in what you have whether it is little or big.

Have you ever seen the aftermath of a damaging storm and seen the families come to their destroyed homes to find what they can to save? I have and what I noticed is there were a family or two that seemed happy in spite of the loss of home for they knew that the most important was saved…each other. And then there were families crying and in despair because their homes were destroyed. It is all a choice and all about what we value most.


Little bird with broken wing
Captive in a world of haze
Frantically searching to escape
Lost in the corridors of a maze

Held by bonds invisible to the eye
The little bird flutters in vain
Though only hurt by a broken wing
The heart was becoming maimed

Caged in glass the world is elusive
Like strangers in the night
The little bird cries from fruitless attempts
And her spirit has lost its fight

Her home is adorned for all to see
Her cage is completely gilded in gold
“I give you everything you need
You should be happy” she is told

But all the glitter and all the shine
Can never fill the little bird’s need
Or stop this little bird’s pitiful cry
As she says “I only want to be freed”

Her cries are silent, her tears are dry
Her wings bruised from beating in vain
No one understands her cries at all
Or knows her deep and yearning pain

Sitting motionless on her little perch
Staring aimlessly through the glass
She is offered precious goodies
But the pleasure does not seem to last

Spring turns slowly into summer
And summer marches on to fall
But time does not lessen the pain
And her unhappiness she tells to all

They grow weary of hearing her cries
When her cage is adorned in gold
Never understanding her needs
Her cries are beginning to sound old

Deserted and alone she begins to molt
Her plumage is turning to crimson
Her songs sound loud and wild
A battle she thinks she has won

Where has the broken bird gone?
What kind of game is this?
With a strut and haughty laugh
She just blows them each a kiss

Everyone is overjoyed it seems
As they begin once again to come back
Never realizing it is a ruse
She is tricking them with this act.

Thinking the worst is finally over
She has become accustomed to her cage
The truth lies in the diary she writes
As the tears cover page after page

The cage is opened occasionally
But the presence is always nearby
So escape is still a distant dream
And she is too sheltered to even try

Company is what she needs, they say
She needs a tiny little child
But peace this does not bring
For she still hears the call of the wild

One day she decides to try to fly away
With the child securely under her arm
But the presence draws her back
With all his sweetness and charm

A taste of freedom lingers in her heart
Escape is planned once again
But, alas new company is coming
She wonders will she ever, ever win?

Once again the haze returns
Despair fills her heart and mind
No matter what the presence offers
No matter how big or sweet or kind

Pain fills all of the minutes in her day
Tears seem to take over every night
The little bird has once again
Lost any of her will to fight

She wanders listlessly around by day
Tiny chirps never entering her haze
Her nights filled with tormented dreams
Of freedom from her beautiful gilded cage

To soar and fly through the air
Over mountains and valleys so low
This little bird is constantly haunted
By the desire to just get up and go

The little bird is haunted every day
The dreams have taken over her bed
Discontent permeates the air like fog
For the sad life that she has led

She calls on the older bird she knows
As she cries out to her all her woe
The older bird listens and tells her
”Baby, be brave and get up and go

See, the cage is no longer locked
The door is swinging to and fro
There is no reason little one
That you cannot pack up and go.”

From being caged so long, she is afraid
That she will no longer know how to fly
So, even when the door is open wide
The little bird is terrified and afraid to try

Hesitating, she cries out in despair for help
Her pitiful words show she does not know
She is uncertain whether to remain inside
Or just to pack and take off and go

She staggers back into the cage in fear
Indecision is clouding her heart
Even when she is given the chance
She does not know how to start

Everything looks brighter outside
The yearning is growing strong
Her melody floats through the air
She knows that is where she belongs

Day by day her courage mounts
As she gets ready to make a break
Dashing through the door, babes in hand
That is all she decides she needs to take

The older bird receives a call
I am on my way the message said
I finally got out of the cage today
Will you please fix the babies beds

Through the rain a distant sound
The frantic beating of their wings
Soon mother and babies are in sight
I’m free, Oh I’m free she sings

Though escaped from the gilded cage
The little bird is trembling in fear
I know he will come after me she cries
For I can feel his presence near

The presence never shows his face
He just makes a very simple call
Is she there with you he wants to know
And says he want her happy that is all

He is willing to let her try the taste
Of all the freedoms of the land
He does not even try to get her back
He never even raises his hand

The little bird settles into the house
Her new life she is ready to start
The excitement growing by bounds
With every beat of her tiny heart

She is fluttering here and there
Tasting and touching everything in sight
Thrilled with this new life she had
She was loving the evening lights

Never being out living on her own
The little bird just did not know
That the big, wide world out there
Was not one continuous show

The babies were left with the old bird
As she played and ran here and there
Living her life doing only as she pleased
As if she did not have a worry or a care

The old bird tried to teach her
Life is different out here she would say
But the little bird would not listen at all
Because she only wanted to be play

If the little bird ever had a need or want
If there was something she could not get
The little bird would beat her wings
In anger she would throw a temper fit.

Although she always wanted to be free
From the presence that was in her life
It was he that she called pleading
At the first signs of trouble or strife

And patient and loving that he was
He filled her every desire or need
But, the little bird was too caught up
To see or appreciate his loving deed

The little bird just wanted to taste life
And wanted to sample all the birds there in
She strutted her fine plumage and flirted
As another bird she worked hard to win

But, once she had this bird in her snare
And he was knocking often at her door
The little bird was not happy or content
Because she wanted so much more

The new bird gave her lots of great gifts
But the little bird was just not content
She badgered the new bird for presents
And was not happy with any he sent

Freedom was not bringing her joy
Her heart was filled with constant pain
She sat around for days and days
Crying tearful songs out in the rain

One night the little bird lost control
As she frantically banged into walls
She grabbed the babies and left the house
Stopping only to make a call

She left in flight, no one knew where
Everyone searched and called all around
Never knowing she flew straight through
Right back to her old home town

She had called the presence to her aid
She would come home; she had said
Please, I do not want to talk right now
Just fix us all some food and a bed

Again the little bird sits in her gilded cage
The door is open wide for everyone to see
Her wing is still broken inside her heart
Because she does not know how to be free

And company is coming once again
To the old gilded cage you see
And while she loves them all
She still yearns to just be free

She cannot see that her wing has healed
And the gate is swinging open wide
She has built her own gate called fear
And shuts it to stay inside

June 15, 2018 Posted by | Inspiration | , , , , , , | 3 Comments


When I write, I write about what I know, what I have seen, people I have met along the way, life in general, and so much more. Blue is one of those about people I have met along the way.


Little girl dressed in blue
wandering down the hall
people sitting in every room
but no one she could call

Bare feet and tangled hair
eyes with a vacant stare
looking straight ahead she walked
seems there was no one to care

Rag doll held by one tiny foot
making trails on the dusty floor
little girl stumbled down the hall
looking for that one lone door

twas no Alice in the looking glass
No Cinderella going to the ball
was only a wooden door she had
and no one else to call

Little black bird with circle of blue
sitting on the snowy cold wall
peering through the glass it looked
listening for someone to call.

Fly, fly away little bird
escape this dark, cold place
you can do it little bird with blue
Fly to a brand new place

Little old lady with silver blue hair
walks with a shuffling gait
Little rag doll sits on a shelf
memories of another date

danLrene 1985

June 11, 2018 Posted by | Inspiration | , , , , , | Leave a comment

We Are All Special But What Are We Special For?

Did you know that you are special?  Yes, you. You are special because there is no one else just like you. You were created special from the day you were born. The only way you can ruin that is to become just like everyone else and we do that by compromising the very core of our character and our lives…by agreeing with everything and standing up for nothing. You were born an original canvas, so do not turn yourself into a copy. It is a matter of choice. Be a masterpiece not a copy.

People ask me how I do it all the time and my reply is “I choose to”.  I can spend my life taking the easy way out because it is less work or I can choose to do the right thing and I can choose to keep fighting. I have had people tell me they were not as strong as me and the truth is that they are just as strong as me. They simply choose to not be for what ever reason. Usually the reason is that it is easier to be weak because then someone else does it for us but when we allow others to do what we are capable of, we have diminished ourselves.

image from

I am a firm believer in that God blessed us with many talents and survival is one of those talents. And survival takes work and somewhere along the way, the desire to work seems to have gone by the way side for many. They want the easy way out. I guess I just have too much grit in me to do that. Even in the shape I am in, I do something every day that is “work” even if it is sitting up on this bed and folding a pile of laundry to help my son.

We are all unique and special and as different as our fingerprints. And yet, if we are not careful, our lives can turn into something common place and a cheap copy of those around us. I would a hundred times rather have people around me that stood up for what is right, that were willing to be themselves in a world full of Botox imitations, that were willing to step out and live honestly and ethically even when everyone else was lying and stealing, and were willing to do more than just exist. We only get one shot in this world and I do not want to waste it.

We are all special but what we have to look inside and ask ourselves is “What are we special for?”  What do people see as our “special” traits?  Are we special because we stand out as someone honest, ethical and moral and our actions show that? Are we special because people see us as manipulators and liars? Are we special because we are always doing for others? Are we special because we are always taking from others? Are we special because people see us as fake sweet and always agreeing with everyone? Are we special because we just follow the crowd? Or, are we special because we use our own brains and stand up for what is right?  Are we special because we are true friends?  Are we special because we lie to our friends because we do not want to tell them the truth? Are we special because we have a kind heart? Just what have we made ourselves special for?

Yes, we were all created very special and with purity. It is what we do in this lifetime that will paint our portraits of what people see us as. The good news is that as long as we are alive…if those brush strokes are things we do not want to be special for, we still have time to repaint the portrait. The bad news is, we have no guarantees of tomorrow and so if we are going to make our portraits as special as we were created, then we better start today.

June 3, 2018 Posted by | Inspiration | , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Last Dance

The Last Dance

With wisps of hair across her beautiful face

Tears on her cheeks your finger could trace

She stood there with head bowed in humble prayer

Feeling as if she were the only one that cared

She closed her eyes and listened once more

To the music that always drew her to the door

The music rose in tempo and sound

She knew her time was coming around

Was her dream to dance just one last dance

And she knew tonight was her only chance

Rising on toes, she danced across the stage

Her body tensing up for the very next page

As she jumped to twirl up in the air

She suddenly felt his hands right there

He lifted her higher than she had ever flown

And twirled and danced  better than she had ever known

He molded himself to her as if one

And remained there lifting her until the dance was done

The applause thundered and echoed around the room

And she felt as if life had just started to bloom

As the sounds died down, she smiled with tears

Not being able to dance was one of her fears

Then she opened her eyes and looked around

Oxygen hoses and hospital beds are what she found

As she glanced down she saw her toes pointed down

And she knew only her attitude kept her bed bound

No matter what happened she could dance so free

She just had to close her eyes and the stage she would see

danLrene  2013

May 31, 2018 Posted by | Inspiration | , , , , , , | Leave a comment

On The Wings Of An Eagle

This poem came to me during one of my sickest times where I was in the bed and sleeping a lot. It seemed like over and over I had this dream of flying on the wings of an eagle and it lifted me even though I could barely raise my head. And for some reason it helped me through those really tough days and so it is a very special poem to me. So, as you read it, try to get in the moment and feel it. Pretend it is you on wobbly legs walking to the edge to fly with the eagles.

On The Wings Of An Eagle

Standing ready, she closes her eyes listening for the sound

She raises arms to the heavens as she edges forward til her toes curl round

The moon beats down upon her face and the glow warms her from within

She lets her eyes follow the mountains as they curve around the bend

She is barefoot in splendid wonder, her cotton gown clinging to her knees

The whiteness of the cotton gown slowly rippling like fog amongst the trees

Her hair flows like dark rivers over her shoulders in layers of earthy brown

There is no fear within her as she again raises her face listening for the sound

The moon,a glowing beacon, risen from the tree line like a goddess in the sky

She heard her softly say “come darling, follow me, it is once again time to fly

She found herself walking on legs long withered and broken as she rose to obey

she felt no pain , the moons glow wound round her legs in soothing play

She grew excited with anticipation for she had heard the call many times before

Silently moving through the house until she finally reached the exit door

Her breathing was shallow, a smile upon her lips as she quietly eased outside

She stood looking to the moon nodding she was coming,the door left open wide

Now, she stood with toes curled upon the ledge and her arms raised ready to fly

Not one drop of fear around, she waited only for that sound of the familiar cry

She hears them in the distance, the echo of eagle’s cries float into her ears

She raises up on tiptoes, with arms open wide and steps off the cliff with no fear

Falling downward she smiles knowing the softness of the landing will be sweet

When her body sinks into the familiar softness, she feels the heart begin to beat

She nuzzles her face in closer and lays there in silent wonder cheek to cheek

The power of the beating wings fills her heart leaving her breathless and weak

Looking down she sees the meadow illuminated with the glow of the moon

The animals are scurrying around as if making a magical nature tune

She watches with delight perched high up in the sky as the world flies by

And in breathless wonder, her heart skips a beat as a tear falls from her eye

She closes her eyes for a moment, sighs in deep content,a smile upon her lips

Feeling the power of this body as they make turns and dips and flips

she realizes the gift she is given as she stands on the edge waiting for the sound

As she stands looking with arms raised to the sky, just waiting to be found

He gently sets her back upon the earth as his wing touches her face tenderly

And she sees the gentleness in his eyes that is only there for her heart to see

She feels him say looking at her that he will return again, to wait for the moon

The moon will let her know the time and she will return to the cliff very soon

Few can see with the eye of the eagle or soar across mountains touched by snow

She used to ask him why she was picked, he told her it was not for her to know

All she needed to know was to come when the moon told her it it was time to fly

She hears the echo of hooves, feel the warriors near as he lifts her to the sky

And as she lay on the softness of feathers and caressed his beautiful head in love

Some could only feel his beauty through the thickness of a leather glove

She knew it was a gift of spirit to ride in splendid wonder in the sky so high

And feel the presence of heaven so close that the beauty made her heart cry


May 29, 2018 Posted by | Inspiration | , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Bend Like The Willow

The storms rage in destruction and despair
The winds of life batter without a care
Things break in two and shatter in places
And you see the pain in so many faces
And yet some still stand beaten but strong
♫’Bend like the willow’♫ is their song
The willow bends from the blasting wind
Smiling inside, saying “I only will bend”
In all her glory, the willow is still there
Proving that the strong willow does not care
Life will always send bad storms our way
Life will bring us storms, day after day
When the storms hit and you feel the pain
Raise your arms and face to the falling rain
Do not run and hide and cover your head
Do not hide, bend like the willow instead
When the willow is bent, the storm goes by
“You did not break me” is the willow’s cry
I am still here standing tall and strong
Think you can beat me, you are very wrong
When things are bad and you want to cry
Bend like the willow…just give it a try.
©danLrene 2006


May 26, 2018 Posted by | Inspiration | , , , , , | 1 Comment

The Sad Story of Lucas Hernandez

Back in February, a little boy named Lucas Hernandez went missing. I have followed this story with a sadness in my heart for I just knew this 5 year old boy was already dead. He lived with his Dad, who worked in another state, and his stepmother. People felt due to the bruises and things that happened to him, that she was abusing him.

The police worked hard for three months to no avail. A private Investigator came to help find Lucas and I researched him and he seems to be quite awesome. He did find Lucas by talking the stepmother into going for a ride and telling her people were zoning in on finding him and she needed to just show him where his body was. And she did tell him and they found the body and called the police. From the deterioration, he had most likely been there the whole three months.

I think why this case hurts my heart so is that several reported this woman for abuse and the children’s services did nothing. Teachers say it and reported and nothing was done. And the last thing one of the family members remembers him saying when they asked him where he got all his bruises was that “Emily doesn’t like me anymore.” That poor little boy.

Now, the reason I am writing this is that every time on Facebook you see a “missing child”, that is someone’s loved one and too many are going missing.  In the town in Kansas where this happened, groups formed to look for his body for weeks going out in rough terrain. They were about two miles from where he was found. Be involved if you can and if you can not at least share the picture for that is the only way to save these children. Every day I see multiple posts on children missing. Some are taken in sex trade, some are little like Lucas, and some are babies. We need to find a way to stop this.


May 25, 2018 Posted by | Inspiration | , , , , | Leave a comment

Life Storms

I look back and now see how much I have learned about life because of my faith. I see things I used to do some years back that I no longer do because I see that it is the wrong thing to do and all it does is create a storm in my life. We all have those AHA moments where something really hits us and we think why did we not learn this sooner?

Reacting to people and things is one area we can get into real problems. Sometimes our reactions are in anger or frustration at what is going on in the world or on Facebook. And at times we all tend to react to what is said rather than respond to. I personally try to avoid comment sections on news articles because some of the things irritate me so it is better to not look. And this kind of storm because of social media does not stop with a comment. People use social media to bash and bully and even try to make people lose their jobs.

Then there are personal relationships that can cause life to go into turmoil and words are exchanged. It is like a storm brewing and I think because of social media people have lost the ability to just sit down and talk face to face and so when they do, it becomes a battle ground. And the storm explodes. People also use social media to try to get people to take their side, which is never a good thing.

But the good news is that sometimes we must go through the storms to find the calm on the other side. Without storms there would be no rainbows. Storms sometimes are like the pressure cooker jiggler. They can make a lot of noise but they keep the thing from exploding.imagesimage from

I also find that the storms teach us things just like I have been taught the past few years. They teach us what is really worth fighting over, how to disagree without arguing and other things. They also bring a sense of relief once the storm is over and a peace comes.


image from

Life is all about learning and growing and changing and these storms are to teach us how to handle life. Because I have a deep faith in God, I have learned not to worry over everything. What a relief that has been. I have learned that not everyone will like us, not everyone will agree with us and that it is not always necessary to prove our point.

April 22, 2018 Posted by | Inspiration | , , , , , , | 3 Comments

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