He was born in the summer of his 27th year
Comin’ home to a place he’d never been before
He left yesterday behind him, you might say he was born again
You might say he found a key for every door
(Rocky Mountain High--John Denver)
I suppose I'll see, as time marches on. Isn't it funny how life takes you from beginning to the end, but it never lets you know if there are miles and miles behind you, or miles and miles to go?
