Not to drink son

What a hot day there cattle, long grass, soft shallow hills and grazing cows somewhere in the whole mess.
looking down into a ditch, steam almost visibly lickling off the surface
looking into the clear yellowy water to the bottom two feet down where the mud is waiting for something to step into it and cloud the whole puddle.

Oh that yellowy clear transparent water soothed my head
Just looking into it waiting for something to swim out but it was empty
and over the coming days would just dry out.
The heat of the day provoked sweat on the back of the neck
slowly and freshly moving down toward the back.

And that water still calling the ditch itself a mouth in the land saying something to the sky
and pondering could give you a Thousand answers.
But one truth is that there was a reason beyond it all, there was a place reserved for
these eyes to look into this water just for the sake of deep meaningless thought.

Deep meaningless thought as a remedy for the effects of so many unquestioning people
so many happy go Lucky dodo´s in the sun waiting for dutch sailors.
Yet it is I that should be paralleled with extinct brainless birds
as not a shred of sense is made glaring into the yellowy ditch water.

But it sooths more than a bed for the weary
more than a drink for the thirsty.
and for this one strange conundrum I would say...
so much food in the word "Why"