Direction

I look down Upon its frosty glass And wait For the internals To settle Should I Move northward Into the heat And bulldust Humid air And all that is Unfair Among The green and black Do I go west Beyond the setting sun To beaches and tracks To walk Before All is said and done Or do I tread south Toward a gulf And burnt out plain Where people believe They are more enlightened But really There just frightened Turn back east And get back into The fray Add my shoulder That rugby crunch Where old boys And new chums Dook it out There is A fifth choice One can Look within To find That Moral direction