One Holy Shrine

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It is the only place that reincarnates history. I am one among millions to have seen them. One oval bowl with steep sides and a flat stomach. One that has outlived the past and retains its new-born wonder. One holy shrine owned by the people. From around the world people come to see it, and it never ceases to amaze.
Its secret is its past. It has seen classics and legends. These things never really leave, there is always a part of them there in this place. You can feel them here, breathing, living, watching over this altar. This is why it stands.

Let people from every group be amazed by the power, the grace, the humility brought onto them by it. They stand as one and proclaim their loyalty to our people in this place and they pray as one for happiness. They rise as one and cheer when it is delivered and cry as one when it is not. But while they may leave in sadness on occasion, they leave changed people, holding onto a memory they will never forget. It changes.

When I am young or old, happy or sad, alone or encircled, it is there and it is majestic. It never fails, only becomes more and more revered with each passing season. When everyone has gone and there is nothing left to look at on this frozen tundra, it will hold our past, our present, and promises of our future. It rises out of the dwellings, almighty and all-powerful. One place where three stars are held, where legends live on, and where the future is always kept burning bright. One place where all is right.





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