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The Hand of Mysticism lay outstretched upon the cracked plane, vainly trying to grasp the meaning of existence.
The heliocentric universe, expanding forever outward, exposed itself to be uncaring, cold and unyielding. Of course it refused
to give up its secrets. The planets, pushed aside by such a whirlpool of cosmic dust, lay banished; No moon, no tides, only
seasonless space devoid of body. The Exquisite Timepiece, stands alone as the solitary guardian of time.
The Hand of Mysticism, animated by man's need to know, gestures greedily for spiritual enlightenment. The Hand seeks what it can never possess, a perfect understanding of God's timetable. Behold the marks on the Hand's palm for they portray man's ignorance. The penmanship of palmistry is but a shadowcraft, never truly revealing the future. Only the mages of universal mysticism can peer into the unknown morrow. The All-Seeing Eye, Exquisite Timepiece, and Father Sun form a triumvirate powerful enough to expose the secrets of the past, present and future. This palm of humanity will never join the inner circle of true knowledge, but rather be left to it's own devices. Barred from the fount of universal truth it must consult other sources...perhaps the Hand will consult the Tarot, or roll the bones, or divine goat entrails. The Hand of Mysticism will do what it must to balm the burning pain of ignorance.
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