It Feels Like Happiness

It feels like happiness
But I know that's not the word I want
It's like this realm, this place
that I sometimes tap into,
and want more of. 
I feel it when I am enthralled by the sight of butterflies
or fairy terns in their aerial dance above me
or when the sky is filled with amazing cloud formations
or sunsets. 

I feel it when I notice enraptured children building sand castles
and digging holes at the beach,
telling stories about their creations,
and when I dance tango with a partner with whom I seem to flow.
I feel it when I come across a touching piece of writing,
or an evocative work of art, 
or when I chance upon an enchanting life idea
​by randomly surfing the internet. 
When I get a whiff of pho,
or the taste of cilantro,
or chocolate, at times. 
They're like short visits to happy places.
Unfortunately, I slip out too soon. 
Like I'm an uncomfortable stranger.
But it's enough of an impression, 
to keep wanting to come back,
more often,
and for longer periods. 
Can I stay there forever?
​