The dark solemn night, a gentle gust of wind blew, glimmering radiant wings shone, fluttering in the gentle breeze.
Butterfly's in hues of blue, green, bright monarchs, rising upward towards the moon.
A solemn procession of beauty heralding the hopes of a lost world, words uttered in prayer, echoing over the high mountain peaks and concentrated onto the spot where the dawning of a new day had begun.
A child fresh from the womb emerged, her tears cried out to be heard. She was carried by her grandmother, to be hid from the world for three days, a world in which the colors of life had faded, faded like flowers carried many hours.
Sipapu the place of emergence.
Her aunts gathered, braiding the new mothers hair, cleansing her body, restoring her to wholeness. Brightly colored beads were woven into it, signifying her triumph over death.
The baby was bathed and wrapped in a soft doe skin blanket gently nursed at her mothers breast, the life force flowed between them.
On the third day, a meal was prepared, prayers were uttered, and mother emerged with her daughter, stepping out into the hues of the early sunrise, they name her kurena.
We come at sunrise
to greet you.
We call you
Father of the clouds
you are beautiful
(Native American poetry and some artistic elements found here https://facultystaff.richmond.edu/~rnelson/sunrise.html)