That pretty much describes the Pantheon. No matter how often I walk beneath that portico of 40 foot grey and rose granite columns (grey across the front, rose on the inside, except for 2 on the east side that were replaced in 1660 ) and enter the bronze doors (reputed to be original), my eyes automatically lift above the hordes of tourists snapping photos, upwards, towards the oculus. This building is the third iteration of the Pantheon, built by Hadrian in 126 AD, modifying (or even re-positioning, the verdict is still out) the original Pantheon of Agrippa from 27 BC, which had been restored by Domitian after a major fire in 80 AD.
After several more visits, I began to believe that the slightly elliptical void related somehow to the beam of light that entered through great oculus, or eye in the dome and gently traced an arc across the expanse of dome. Each day the arc is slightly different, shifting and drifting across the dome in response to the earth's wobble around the sun. Maybe the two, one fixed and one in motion, would line up on an auspicious day. I began my watch. I hypothesized that maybe it would be the spring equinox. The beam of light approached closer and closer to the void each day as March 21 approached, the lowest point of its daily arc happening about noon. On March 21 it was close, but no clean alignment. The next day I believed to be auspicious was April 21, the ancient roman festival of Pales, goddess of shepherds, the day revered to be the date Romulus founded the city of Rome in 753 BC. Romulus dug the pomerium, or sacred boundary, of his city on the Palatine (one of the 7 hills of Rome). That hill has since given us the word palace from the immense imperial residences there, and was originally dedicated to Pales, herself.