As we celebrate the birth of Jesus this week, we invite you to reflect on the wonder of Christ’s coming through “Would We Notice? Is There Room?”, a new Advent poem by Bill Ivanov. Bill is a nature photographer, poet, pianist, and Christian storyteller, seeking God’s presence in the beauty of creation. With Evangelical roots and a Catholic spiritual home, Bill is a journalist for UniteBoston to capture stories of faith and unity across the city and is currently developing a series of photography books exploring the presence of God in creation.
We invite you to read Bill’s poem below, which invites us to slow down, lift our eyes, and ask anew whether we are making room for Christ in our lives and in our world.
Tonight the skies shimmer with wonder—
a moon brushed in copper flame,
auroras lifting like veils of green fire,
comets stitching silver prayers into the dark.
The heavens still speak.
They whisper. They tremble. They sing.
But do we look up long enough
to listen?
For once—long ago, Bethlehem breathed,
and the heavens carried another message.
Jupiter bowed toward Saturn,
a king inclining toward Israel
in the silent dark.
Mars drew near—
three wandering lights gathering like witnesses
to a story about to break the world open.
A comet burned for seventy nights,
a royal announcement written in fire.
Creation held its breath.
Heaven leaned toward earth.
And then, one night, it happened.
Not in a palace,
not in a city of gold,
but in a stable where no one had room,
where every door was shut
to the One who carved the galaxies.
Light broke through the cracks of the manger—
falling softly on a mother and her child,
radiance resting where heaven touched hay.
The baby stirred beneath its warmth,
and even the critters grew still.
A cow lifted its voice, low and reverent,
as if creation itself recognized
what had finally come to rest among it.
No trumpets,
no anthems of earthly choirs.
Only the soft cry of God
wrapped in swaddling cloths,
the hush of breath,
the crunch of hay beneath holy feet.
Breath met breath in the cold of night.
Mary pondered what her heart
could not yet hold.
Joseph stood silent beneath borrowed stars,
guarding a mystery too vast for words.
The weight of eternity slept between them—
small enough to cradle,
yet strong enough
to save the world.
The angels came—
not to kings or scholars,
but to shepherds
the world had already forgotten.
Heaven tore open above a field
and poured its glory on the poor.
Far away, wise men saw the star—
a brilliance unlike the others,
steady, insistent, calling them forward.
They stood in awe of what they saw,
knowing the heavens were pointing
to something the earth had never held.
And so they went—
leaving comfort for dust,
certainty for wonder,
following light wherever it led.
They carried gold for a King,
frankincense for a Priest,
myrrh for a Savior
who would offer the greatest gift
ever given.
Yet when He arrived,
only a handful knew.
The world slept on,
lost in its distractions.
To most,
nothing had happened.
And tonight—
with our faces lit by glowing screens
instead of the skies
still declaring His glory—
I wonder…
Would we notice
if heaven announced His coming today?
Would we lift our eyes long enough
to see the heavens dance again?
Would we recognize the divine in the stranger,
the holy in the unexpected,
the Savior in the place
we least expect?
If Christ came now,
is there room?
Who among us—
in this spinning, shimmering,
distracted, and broken world—
would be the first
to see
the light?
Bio: As a member of the Blue Nose Society, Bill has traveled as far north as the Arctic Circle, photographing grizzly bears, orcas, reindeer, and the luminous skies that declare the work of God’s hands. He also serves in the choir at the Apple Valley Catholic Collaborative and plays piano, believing that music, nature, and spirituality move in harmony to illuminate the human soul.
Bill is an open mic storyteller at the Harvard General Store, sharing narratives shaped by wonder, faith, and the beauty of the world. He is currently developing a series of photography books exploring the presence of God in creation—offering images, reflections, and meditative experiences that proclaim YHWH’s name and invite readers to fill their eyes with goodness so their lives may be full of light.
Inspired by Garrison Keillor, Bill aspires to continue telling stories that reveal the sacred in everyday life, blending art, music, and nature to awaken awe and reflection.