Some writers remark
that English’s limping subjunctive
fails to capture the full range
of magic, emotion, and possibilities
for what might exist 
even within our own minds.
Yet these language experts forget
the crucial principle our tongues extend
as we grind down difficulties 
in one domain
new features sprout like fungus
in some other field. 
This mutative property not only allows
but also nearly guarantees
an equality across languages
our own societies are too young
to recognize on their own.
Even though languages may lack,
from time to time,
a word for a specific concept,
this absence in no way reflects
a dearth of description,
and now that grammar
that sounded so painful in school
receives a chance to remind us
how features become fundaments to thought.
So, writers, please remember:
this power comes inherent
in every language we use,
so we should allow others to judge us instead
on how creatively we use the linguistic tools we have.
If I were more sadistic in the work I do with others,
I might require more subjunctive
in order to see a world more speckled by doubt and openness. 
But English has more than enough other ways
to welcome an influx of uncertainty 
in our everyday speech,
so I will clutch my subjunctive
close to my chest
and only use it sparingly
as if someone else were to try to steal it.