How does it happen?
Nobody knows,
A mysterious flare,
Crosses the air,
...
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There is a lovely poem by Jacques Prevert expressing a similar thought. I think it is called Chanson. I'm not certain which I like better, his or yours.
For some, it never happens. For many, it happens once. For others, it happens many times. I'm not sure which is best.
You describe that fleeting feeling so well. I just read Kelly's poem about love this morning. Maybe I should write a poem about love too. That feeling of writing about love is spreading everywhere isn't it? :) You don't know why, You don't know how, But the whole world changes, From before to Now. That's what love can do! Love, Pam