The world around, though styles vary
Everything comes down with a thud
Relationships are the framing studs
Whether we sleep alone or marry
A house is nothing but sticks and mud
Built with money, or sweat and blood
A house, for now, is a place to tarry
Everything comes down with a thud
Home is a place where love can bud
Humility learning to laugh and carry
A house is nothing but sticks and mud
Dig down deep before the flood
Rushes through, life’s joy to parry
Everything comes down with a thud
A house may fall, but no home is a dud
The building was always extemporary
A house is nothing but sticks and mud
Everything comes down with a thud
©2026 Jacqueline Tisthammer. All rights reserved.
Photo by Rosemary Media on Unsplash
Lately I’ve been exploring different poetry forms, like these last two villenelle posts! I enjoy the challenge of finding enough rhymes for this form, although sometimes it means I have to use the word ‘dud’ or start the poem over. I hope you enjoyed!
This piece began as a reflection on our recent home addition. Watching the new part of the house go up helped me realize how fragile houses are, even when they are well built. It’s largely sticks and mud (fortunately in this summer heat, also insulation) between us and the world. Our dreams for this expanded home are all relational rather than material – we want our home to welcome others well and provide space for our family to connect joyfully. More than one bathroom isn’t necessary, but it sure helps us live together more peacefully!
The other side of this poem is a statement of hope in the face of loss. As I read about the fires currently burning all over the world, I remember the losses to our own community in the Tubbs fire. Losing a house is a unique kind of grief. We long for the place where important moments and everyday life played out for so long, but a fire can’t burn away what home has built in us. Human nature, formed in God’s image, thrives on relationship, and it is in relationship that we find our home.
In Pursuit of More 