I was born into a prepared place here,
Where geniuses leave their marks,
That everything is better still.
Thank you you who first sung a song.
Perhaps the birds led the way.
Thank you you who first baked a pot from clay.
Perhaps fiery stones led the way.
Thank you you who first made a word.
Perhaps the call of sheep led the way.
Thank you you who first picked berries and nuts as food.
Perhaps you watched the deer and squirrel.
Thank you you who first made a wooden spoon.
Perhaps you saw rainwater gather in a cleft of wood.
Thank you you who first spun wool into cloth.
Perhaps you watched the spider spin.
Thank you you who did first build a boat.
Perhaps you watched a log float by.
Thank you you who first drew pictures in the sand, on the wall, on stone cliff.
Perhaps you played with charred sticks from fire that day.
Thank you you who first saw seeds grow plants.
Perhaps you saw a wild seed sprouting one day and took it home.
Thank you all who discovered this and that, big and small,
That make my day easier, more comfortable, more pleasant.
Thank you you geniuses for preparing a place for me.