This poem was written by Jane Roberts before delivering an important session about the "beginning" of everything from Seth in Nov. 1979:
If there is no life after life,
then what cosmic spendthrift formed
the universe,
for Chance alone can't be
that prolific, or fake an order in which
an accident of such proportions
as the creation of a world
seems so inevitable,
each random element
falling pat, into place,
and each consciousness promptly appearing
with body parts all neatly assembled--
only to be squandered,
falling apart, dissolving into nothingness
while Chance grinds out newer odds.
If there is no life after life,
then what a lack
of cosmic economy,
for nature strings one molecule
on to another so craftily
that each seed can grow a tree,
and contains the properties
of an entire forest,
while multiplications
are hidden everywhere.
(See Dreams, Evolution, and Value Fulfillment Vols. 1 and 2 for more on reincarnation, and "the beginning".)
Jane's poem voices concerns about the mysteries we've all pondered. For me, the idea that everything is random, undirected, and ultimately destroyed and rebuilt from scratch is hard to believe. Rather, the innate intelligence of everything that is--our cells, our thoughts, the natural world--because it has sprung from the same source, grows with each experience, and overall, each incarnation. The vast intricacies of life--everything that is, has been, will be--has sprung from and retains the essence of the source. We're made of good stuff!
BTW, if you are wondering why Jane and Rob--why did Seth choose these two psychically- uninitiated artists to be the vehicle for his books, apparently they have been friends and counterparts in several other lives. Whereas Jane and Rob are still on the physical path, Seth has been out of the game so to speak for awhile. Still, the connection he had with the two of them was strong--as was/is Jane and Rob's connection.
More on the intricacies of the Seth-Jane-Rob relationship later.
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