Sun kissed poets
Singing sonnets with every
Harvested grain or ground herb
Of every odyssey
By the sea catching a feast for a king

We sing the songs of yesteryear
Honoring ancestral lands by way of bard
Or maiden song
Folktales told in plays by ways of melody

Here where the old gods still touch ground
And bless the poor farmer with bountiful crop
And wine spills secrets with each glass emptied

Tales told with full body eminence
Each vowel a thunderous drum
As if words themselves compel our vigor
To rise up and say it proudly!

We are gentle,
Humble servants of god and country
And welcome all that need a warm abode
We feed our lonely and praise our children
And love with abundance as our hearts-
Reach from our chest to hug yours

And whether from the coastal shores,
Or by volcanic rock,
In here we are all tethered together
No matter the distance,
Unified and as simple as a single word
We are Sicilian.