Which Direction Poem by ronald meseck

Looking out a window, watching tree leaves sway
What is there to tell us. winds true way
Looking at a river, at a height in perspective
Sights of a being, and the mind thus is collective
In which direction does it go, may be what is concealed
Only with a closer look, may a deception be revealed

Look at a picture, what do we surmise
Is it a sunset, or is it a sunrise
A reflection, a truth, is what we receive
But it may be an opposite, a so thus deceive
Knowledge and curiosity, is what hold the key
As realities illusions, may be what we see