WHAT IS IT?

I can smell it.

I can taste it.

It encircles me with every breeze and penetrates my thoughts with every breath.

It taps relentlessly on my window throughout the night, beckoning me to chase it, though when I rise from my bed it vanishes.

It returns with the awakening of the day's first light, then dissipates with the wispy clouds into the deep, teasing blue of the morning sky.

Its fleeting appearance lingers in my mind, and I soon seek it out once again through pens and pages and within book covers.

I bury myself in the letters and ideas as if burying myself in the fine sands of the Sahara.

I feel it between each grain, but eventually the soothing warmth of the surface transitions into the cold of the rock beneath.

No, that's not it.

I climb to the surface and chase its whispers yet again.

This time I find myself diving into a realm of harmony and melody, rolling over piano keys and calling forth soft acoustic sounds.

It's there.

I hear it now.

I leap and grasp at the air around me but my fists remain empty.

I curse the skies and am treated to a warm response -- it is once again inviting me to its presence.

I know I will catch it this time.

I jump into my car, roll the windows down, and cruise down I-215 towards the liberating kingdoms of pine and stone, standing tall and confidently on the horizon.

I trek miles deep into the wilderness of the Wasatch and climb the tallest peak, yet I still cannot grasp it -- not even up there.

I can feel it vibrating within the stone I grip high on the cliff, my blood pumping fast and my adrenaline even faster, but I am unable to unearth it.

What is it?

I don't know now, and I reckon I never will.

It tastes like longing.

It tastes like excitement.

It smells like passion.

It smells like motivation.

It hits like depression.

It hits like resentment.

It sounds like laughter.

It sounds like good music.

It looks like lit eyes and genuine smiles.

It looks like a fire-red sunset or an emerald-lit night sky.

It touches like her warmth wrapped in my arms.

It touches like the refreshing river running through my fingertips.

It feels like happiness.

It feels like peace.

What is it?

Where is it?

Who is it?