"How do you hold a moon beam in your hand?" I mean, seriously?

Good question. For all of you people who have watched the Sound of Music, you will know that the song "How do you Solve a Problem Like Maria?" uses that line to portray the image of trying to deal with an elusive, ever-unique issue. And I have an issue that is really like trying to hold a moonbeam in your hand. I'm trying to write a song.
Songwriting is not even of enough status as of now to call a hobby of mine. Lyrics are written on scraps of paper in spirts, tunes come and go in my head, and I rarely even get the notes written on paper, let alone finish a song. But I like to try. Some songs are easy - when dealing with a common idea that is easy to put to words, and a common emotion that goes along with that making the piano part easy. If you were asked to make up a "happy" tune, it would be a lot easier than playing an "elusively awe-inspiring with a hint of chill" tune. And that's what I'm trying to learn, and it's driving me crazy, and I love it.
Ok, so I found a scrap of lyrics about snowflakes that I had written last May. (Why?...good question) and the newly fallen snow told me it was time to try to put it to music. This is the hardest song I've ever tried to write. the others were much more clearly defined, and I had heard enough "happy" "sad" and "thoughtful" tunes that I had an idea of what one should sound like. But with this, at first I didn't even know what I wanted - I had to get the emotion I was trying to portray. Awe was the best I could come up with, but even that was lame. It's what you feel when you look out into a world, silent, still, and everything, even time, is encased in ice. Trying to name that flutter that happens in you is like trying to catch the pearl of light that shoots off an ice-over leaf in a split second, or a moonbeam in your hand. When the emotion comes, I try to stick that in ice too, to freeze the moment, so I can examine it closeup. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn't. "Elusively awe-inspiring with a hint of chill" is the most descriptive I've gotten so far. But every time I walk away with more knowledge about it, as well as the knowledge that there is still so more that I know I missed. It's driving me crazy, but like a star-struck kid, I keep jumping after snowflakes to examine one up close before it melts in my hand.
And so follows what I call the "Beethoven Effect" that drives my mom crazy - I'm in my own world, forgetting what I'm doing because I had an idea, not responding when someone talks to me because I'm playing piano in my head, and being a generally spaced-out space cadet. I just want to get this done so I can go back to normal, but until I can catch the emotion, and then (the hard part), spell it out with notes with deft ease, it's enticing my mind to wander during school and lay in bed with the half-finished song brewing in my head at night. If and when I ever finish, I'll let you know, although you might be able to guess for yourself because by that time I'll be landing back on earth again.