In the fourth of our Lent series in which contributors reveal the books they turn to for solace and reinvigoration, an actor reaches for two collections of poems that share a directness of spirit and a reverence for life

I have been allowed to stretch the rules, selecting two books which have sustained me over many years. The commission for the piece requires that these books are ones which helped me through a difficult patch, but this presents a problem: the vagaries of life and parenthood make it hard to judge when one difficult patch has ended and its successor has begun. Through it all, I cling to both books.

When someone close to me was diagnosed with a life-threatening tumour, I suddenly encountered emotions I could not begin to articulate. My reactions were flailingly unreasonable. I’d see people walking in the street and resent their apparently cheery wellness. Not that I wished them ill, I don’t think I went that far, but their blithely ordinary activity and ignorance both of my friend’s distress and of my despair made me heave with resentment. It was unstable, illogical, immature and not even cathartic.