We see Sicily as if on some distant coast,
\nwhere the air rises with invisible power.
\nWe see her cities of stone,
\nthe sweetness of marble,
\nthe heritage of ages,
\nand think,
\nwould Rosa know her ancestral children?
\nWould Antonio hear our voices,
\nthe gestures of hands,
\nthe features of the faces
\nand see his family? His kind?<\/p>\n
A century has passed.
\nHow old the weathered wood
\nthat supports the vine.
\nThe confusion of other worlds,
\nyet the moon rises over the mountains,
\na pair of lips, eyes, a nose
\nand they would touch our faces,
\ngroping to recognize their friends,
\ntheir babies,
\nliving in their adopted land,
\nand for them,
\nknowing no other,
\nthey call home.<\/p>\n
Sleep Rosa.
\nSleep Antonio.
\nYou were human,
\nand we toast your courage
\nand your vision.
\nWithout you we are nothing.
\nWith us,
\nyou own the future.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
We see Sicily as if on some distant coast, where the air rises with invisible power. We see her cities of stone, the sweetness of…<\/p>\n