What does this poem say about you?

LAKE AND MAPLE by Jane Hirshfield

I want to give myself utterly as this maple that burned and burned for three days without stinting and then in two more dropped off every leaf; as this lake that, no matter what comes to its green-blue depths, both takes and returns it.

In the still heart, that refuses nothing, the world is twice-born— two earths wheeling, two heavens, two egrets reaching down into subtraction; even the fish for an instant doubled, before it is gone. I want the fish.

I want the losing it all when it rains and I want the returning transparence.

I want the place by the edge-flowers where the shallow sand is deceptive, where whatever steps in must plunge, and I want that plunging.

I want the ones who come in secret to drink only in early darkness, and I want the ones who are swallowed.

I want the way the water sees without eyes, hears without ears, shivers without will or fear at the gentlest touch.

I want the way it accepts the cold moonlight and lets it pass, the way it lets all of it pass without judgment or comment.

There is a lake, Lalla Ded sang, no larger than one seed of mustard, that all things return to.

O heart, if you will not, cannot, give me the lake, then give me the song.

Give Yourself Utterly I want to give myself utterly as this maple that burned and burned for three days without stinting and then in two more dropped off every leaf;