Tenebrae: a sonnet

Awhirl before my eyes did swirl the sparks

As one by one the candles turned to smoke

And sitting there in silent, stillest dark,

A flicker burned within and I awoke.

.

I felt a pang for that dear body broke

That bled betwixt time and eternity.

It seemed I saw His image in the smoke

And felt my heart, too, fixed upon that tree.

.

Oh how I ached to join this agony!

Yet I, near sleeping, safely sat below.

I closed my eyes the better then to see

And hear the ever-present, past echo.

.

To wait in darkness was my only wish;

Now hidden, I wanted no light but His.

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Study Break?

What should I be doing? Studying for my 20th Century Music History midterm.
What am I doing? Learning to write rondel poetry.

But, if I use the poetry (below) as a way to discuss the artistic philosophies in this class, does it count as studying?

 

“A Rondel to Order in Art”

It is ‘oft thought that to create

we must rebel against all rules

that only traditional fools

would think those the artist’s first mate,

.

That to follow them is to fate

ourselves to repeating the schools

and that if we are to create

we must forsake all former rules,

.

But order we must not equate

to primitive, unneeded, cruel

for it indeed is proved a tool;

to use, not recapitulate,

and in adapting, to create.