Our bodies are made of star-stuff - atoms made in stars, brought to Earth by violent processes traceable back to the Big Bang. Our galaxy, our sun, our planet and we ourselves owe their origins to the minute irregularities of the material that developed in the Big Bang... Clearly, we human beings are not apart from the universe, we are a part of it. Daphne Gloag is one of the few people who truly understand this: indeed the final line of this book lays it out in those words. Her poems are set in the authentic context of our place in the universe not only literally but also as metaphors between human events and the cosmic. She looks back at her experiences - her loves, her travels, her reactions to art - and reads across to grand cosmic developments. In Daphne Gloag's poetry scientific imagination and poetic imagination are facets of the same diamond of universal human experience. The words are hers, but the universal truths in this poem are everybody's. Paul Murdin, Institute of Astronomy, University of Cambridge These poems bridge the emotional gap between our planet's 'precarious terrain', rendered here with the fascinated and selective precision of a painter, and that 'large space' beyond, whose intimate bearing on us, both creative and destructive, we are now beginning to grasp. Emerging into the speculative space between two voices, they help us realise with unusual intensity the value of life, of love and of 'words existences that could not be undone' - having once come to be, all are for ever 'a part of the universe'. Anne Cluysenaar Daphne Gloag's poetry has an extraordinary range of reference... Here is a distinctive voice, both enquiring and lyrical, which affirms life and celebrates love. Myra Schneider Her poems are remarkable, especially in the way she has successfully taken complex concepts in modern science - particularly cosmology - and integrated them successfully and seamlessly into poems which speak of the human condition in an effective and moving manner. John Latham -- Publisher: Cinnamon Press