Johneta Ohler Poet Spoken Word

The Climb

Nobody applauds the valley.
Nobody posts the nights
when the ceiling feels closer than the sky
and your prayers sound like static.
We want the spotlight.
The trophy.
The soft landing.
But nobody wants
the blistered hands.
See, 
we romanticize the view
but curse the mountain.
We beg for strength
then resent the resistance.
Ask for growth
but complain about the growing pains.
And life just stands there like
You can’t have one without the other.
Because accomplishment
without adversity
is just decoration.
It looks good.
It photographs well.
But it doesn’t mean anything.
Meaning is carved.
Into bone.
Into backbone.
Into “I almost gave up but I didn’t.”
Hardship is the chisel.
Trials are the hammer.
And you
You are the stone
becoming something worth remembering.
You don’t appreciate water
until you’ve known thirst.
You don’t appreciate light
until you’ve walked blind through your own doubt.
And you don’t appreciate the summit
until your legs have trembled
and your lungs have burned
and you’ve whispered,
“Just one more step,”
to a version of yourself
that didn’t believe you could take it.
The valley isn’t punishment.
It’s preparation.
It teaches you how to breathe thinner air.
How to carry your own weight.
How to build muscle where fear used to live.
Because when you finally stand at the top
when the thing you prayed for
is finally in your hands
You won’t just celebrate it.
You’ll understand it.
And that understanding?
That’s what makes it sacred.
So don’t curse the climb.
The mountain isn’t in your way.
It’s shaping you
into someone
who can handle the view.

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